5016 THE ZooLocist—A ucustT, 1876. 
. being softer and wilder, sweeter and more plaintive. Add the best parts of 
the lay of the latter to the sweet vibrating chaunt of the wood sparrow 
(Spizella pusilla), and you have the evening hymn of the vesper-bird—the 
poet of the plain, unadorned pastures. Go to those broad, smooth, up-lying 
fields, where the cattle and sheep are grazing, and sit down on one of the 
warm, clean stones, and listen té this song. On every side, near and 
remote, from out the short grass which the herds are cropping, the strain 
rises. Two or three long, silver notes of rest and peace, ending in some 
subdued trills or quavers, constitute each separate song. Often you will 
catch only one or two of the bars, the breeze having blown the minor part 
away. Such unambitious, unconscious melody! It is one of the most 
characteristic sounds in Nature. The grass, the stones, the stubble, the 
quiet herds, and the warm twilight among the hills, are all subtilely 
expressed in this song: this is what they are at least capable of.’” 
We find in the ‘ Birds of the North-West’ that much care has 
been given to a description of the nests and eggs of the various 
species where they have been observed. It is well known that 
among American birds are some of the most skilful architects to be 
met with in the world. The beautiful Baltimore oriole (Iclerus 
Baltimore), which has its name from its colours of black and 
orange being the livery of Lord Baltimore, once proprietor of 
Maryland, weaves its pensile nest close to houses almost every- 
where in the States; while throughout the middle States the 
chimney swallow (Chelura pelagica) builds its home with so much 
cleverness that it is worth while to quote the account of it 
furnished by the pen of Dr. Brewer :— 
“The nest of the chimney swallow is one of the most remarkable struc- 
tures of the kind to be found among the handiwork of even this interesting 
family, nearly all of whom are far from being undistinguished for their 
architectural accomplishments. It is composed of small twigs of nearly 
uniform size, which are interwoven in a neat semicircular basket. In 
selecting the twigs with which to construct the nest, the swift seems to 
prefer to break from the tree such as are best adapted to its wants, rather 
than to gather those already scattered upon the ground. This is done with 
great skill and adroitness, while on the wing. Sweeping on the coveted 
twig, somewhat as a hawk rushes on its prey, it parts it at the desired place, 
and bears it off to its nest. This fact is familiar to all who have attentively 
observed its habits. Each of these twigs is firmly fastened to its fellows by 
an adhesive saliva, secreted by the bird, and the whole structure is strongly 
cemented to the side of the chimney in which it is built by means of the 
same secretion. When dry this saliva hardens into a glue-like substance, 
